Sigyn had always thought riding to be such a simple thing. As a girl, she had watched parades in the golden streets of the city, in which there were hundreds of men and women atop a horse's wide back. They pranced through the procession as though the beast was an extension of their body. They were graceful and extraordinary present for the duration of the ride, and for a time, Sigyn had begged her father to give her lessons on a horse of her own. The man let her practice on a neighbour's steed, but the desire to be an expert atop a creature as fair as Asgardian steeds faded, as many children's fancies do in time, and she moved on to another habit that seemed to stick – gardening. So, while she had a few skills under her belt, Sigyn generally struggled with the more difficult concepts of riding.

She was eternally grateful, mind you, that Thor had offered to simply give her his prized beast. The creature was quite gentle with her, taking the more difficult terrain in stride, but no matter how the horse fussed over her, nothing could spare her from the harsh elements of the outdoors. When they were free of the palace, cloaked in a bit of Loki's magic, he took them straight for the hills. For a fleeting moment, Sigyn wondered if he planned to take her back to her house, perhaps to gather her things. However, the thought faded when he urged the horses beyond the military barracks and toward the looming mountains in the distance.

They had been on the move for hours now, well into the night, and only once had Loki stopped the horses to let Sigyn stretch her legs. She now understood why the riders in the parades looked so graceful; they must have only been riding for an hour at most. Had they gone any longer, they would feel the strain in their back and legs, just as Sigyn did, and perhaps they too would feel the painful hunger in the pits of their stomachs. She dared not complain; Loki had already done so much for her, and it would be unbecoming of a wife to fret and whine so early in a marriage. Instead, Sigyn merely bit of lower lip and gripped the soft leather reigns in her hands, eager for the moment in which they would finally stop.

He hadn't told her much of anything since they broke free from the eyes of his ancestral home. In fact, the only time they had said anything to one another was when he glanced back over his shoulder to ask how she fared. Every response she gave came with a smile and a nod; Sigyn was eager to express her gratitude, even if she had to lie about her current state. The answers always seemed to please him, and he urged his horse on without another word to her. However, in actuality, she wasn't all that fine. The saddle was starting to hurt her, and as they climbed along the winding mountain paths, there was a chill in the air that sank down to her bones. After the day she had had, Sigyn wanted to do nothing more than melt in a warm bath, and then crawl into bed.

That seemed highly unlikely, unless Loki had a palace hidden within the confines of the mountains. At first, she thought she had been dreaming, but when Loki stopped the horses for the final time that night, she saw they had come to the entrance of a cave. She frowned, suddenly quite alert at the sound of voices on the wind, and eagerly dropped down into Loki's awaiting arms by the side of her horse. He released her as soon as her feet touched the ground, and Sigyn busied herself with the rearranging of her skirts as her husband tended to the horses. The beasts seemed hesitant to enter the cave, stomping and whinnying at the thought, but Sigyn watched Loki carefully coax them in with a gentle tone and encouraging words.

She followed shortly after, glancing over her shoulder when she swore she heard real voices behind her. However, she faced nothing but the other side of the pass, which traveled upward and into the fog. For all she knew, there could have been someone spying from above, but only if they could pierce the thick layer of smog hovering in the night air. She wasn't sure if mountain trolls possessed any special abilities, as she wasn't one to learn about races beyond her own, but she was sure such dull creatures couldn't have such interesting powers.

"Come along, Sigyn."

She snapped to attention at the sound of his voice, and then hurried inside without another thought given to trolls and their powers. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself, drawing the maroon cloak in as tightly as she possible could, and gave her new surroundings a onceover. It was… a cave. Not particularly deep; Loki had struck a fire-stick, giving them light as he wedged it into a gaping crack in the stone walls. The heat gave the horses a bit of a startle, but they seemed to calm once more under her husband's soft voice. He walked them further into the cave, and as Sigyn sauntered after them, she saw there was a small pool at the very end.

"Are we sure this is not the home of some other creature?" The question was supposed to be spoken quietly to herself, but Loki turned back as soon as she finished – perhaps sound traveled better in the cavern.

"The only things, aside from moss," he told her, kicking at a green tuft of plant-life atop a nearby rock, "that live in these mountains are goats and trolls." She swallowed thickly at the mention of the latter, glancing back over her shoulder again. Loki, meanwhile, busied himself with removing the horses' saddles. "I suspect we shall find trouble from neither."

She nodded, though as she watched him toss a sheathed sword onto the nearby ground, Sigyn couldn't help but wonder if he truly believed his words. Regardless, she had faith that her new husband would see to her safety, be it from goats or trolls, and let the issue drop. In an effort to be helpful, she went to his side as he removed the large traveling bags from Opal, and then silently offered to take them with extended hands.

"I… Yes, here," he muttered, setting a strap on each arm. They were horribly heavy. "There is a blanket in the left, and some food on the right."

Sigyn turned away with a nod, and then set out to find the flattest surface in the cave. At that very moment, the skies decided to spill all of their contents down to the realm, and she stood still as she watched a thick wall of rain block the entrance to the cavern. She shot a quick glance back at Loki and saw that he too had stopped to observe the showers, his expression less than impressed with the turn of events. They were fortunate, however, for the cave tilted upward before it ran down into the little watering hole at the far end; therefore, they were unlikely to be flooded should they choose their sleeping ground wisely.

With the new turn of weather events in mind, Sigyn set the heavy bags down where the ground started to slope toward the pond. Then, as Loki had informed her, she rummaged through the one bag for a thick quilt, which would hopefully keep the ground's chill from their bodies. She spread it out carefully, mindful of the dirtier patches here and there, and folded the top over to create some sort of cushioning. With that sorted, she set the bag, which had deflated at the loss of the quilt, next to the wall, and then kneeled down before the other one to find the food Loki had mentioned.

"You'll have a proper bed in two night's time," Loki told her as he joined her at the quilt. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't a problem; Sigyn would take a shared quilt in a cave over a marriage-bed with Theoric any day.

She managed to find two thick loaves of brown bread tucked beneath some netting and other wrapped trinkets, along with a rather large chunk of cheese. They ought to save the cheese, she decided, and instead pulled out a single loaf and ripped it in half carefully. She then extended her hand to Loki, who had settled down with his back to the wall.

"Where are we going?" She watched him rip off a smaller piece and shove it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a few moments with his eyes closed. Sigyn did the same, though she quickly realized the bread was too dry to be enjoyed on its own, and dug through the bag to find the small chalice she had seen earlier.

"By tomorrow afternoon, we'll be through the mountains," he explained as she rose to her feet, smoothing down her stolen skirt quickly before she made her way to the entrance of the cave. They had a pond, yes, and while the water might have been suitable for horses, she had no desire to risk her new husband's health when there was perfectly fresh water falling from the sky. "There is a rather fruitful valley before we reach the kingdoms beyond Asgard… I am close with the Lord of Trondheim."

"Trondheim?" Sigyn rolled up her sleeve and hesitantly held the silver cup out into the pounding droplets of rain, retracting it moments later when it threatened to overflow. "Is it an Asgardian city?"

"Kingdom," her husband corrected, and she nodded as she returned to his side. "It's a kingdom run by one of the lesser lords in Odin's court. He will give us sanctuary until we can be sure the Hawkes are not on our trail."

He watched her kneel at his side, and then took the chalice when she presented it to him; his expression appeared somewhat taken aback, and Sigyn wondered how much she ought to wait on him. The man was her husband, after all, and she knew that it was her duty henceforth to attend to whatever needs he may have. She relaxed when he took a sip from the cup, and when there were no complaints as to the quality of the water, she grabbed her half of the loaf and settled down next to him. The couple ate in silence, and she shot him little looks every so often, quite unsure of where his mind was on a night like this.

After all, there were… responsibilities that newlyweds were to undertake on the night of their wedding, and while Sigyn was certainly not untouched, the thought of being with him had her on edge. They had kissed before, yes, and if he requested it, she would let him have her however he saw fit – he was her husband. However, memories of Theoric's hands remained so fresh on her mind, and his scent surely lingered on her skin. She knew she ought to attend to her husband's needs, no matter the proximity to her most recent lover, but she couldn't bring herself to do it just yet. Her body ached and her limbs were still frigid, and based on the way they had been interacting – without their usual ease – that night, she assumed it would have been enjoyable for no one.

When she finished the remainder of her loaf, Sigyn ignored the way her stomach continued to feel empty. Instead, she fretted over the loose pieces of string on her dress; the garment had belonged to a servant, and clearly its condition was not quite as well as it ought to have been. She tugged off some of the longer bits, careful not to ruin the rest of the fabric in the process.

"The feast Frigga ordered the cooks to prepare for the wedding was immense," Loki said suddenly, causing her to look up. "This is a poor alternative, but only temporary, I promise."

She offered him a shy smile, and then shook her head. "Food would have had no taste if I had to share it with Theoric. This is quite grand, I assure you."

He studied her for a moment, and then lifted his arm, a silent gesture for her to join him. She swallowed thickly, and then scuttled to his side, resting her head atop his should as she placed a hand on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair for a moment, and Sigyn shifted a little when he brought it down to sit on the curve of her hip. The intentions were there, and the unspoken thoughts the two undoubtedly shared floated about in the air between them. However, neither commented on the situation, and when he made no further touches beyond the superficial ones in her hair and on her back, Sigyn felt sleep nagging at her.

"Are you cold?"

His voice cut through the haze that had begun to form in her mind, and she jerked awake, blinking quickly and clearing her throat.

"A little."

Her grasp tightened on the fabric of his cloak as he sat up and then reached behind her. Moments later, she felt him wrap the excess material of their quilt around her, and when he had finished, Sigyn leaned up to place a kiss to his cheek. However, he turned and caught her lips with his instead, and she inhaled sharply. Her lips parted at his desperate insistence, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulled her up toward him.

"Sit astride me," he ordered gruffly, the words mumbled against her lips. Sigyn broke away for a moment as she scrambled to comply, situating herself with her legs folded on either side of him, her dress hitched up to her waist. She shuddered when his lips went for her neck, teasing the soft flesh with teeth and tongue, but her eyes remained open, gazing at the gray stone behind them.

No. Not here – not now. Unfortunately, Sigyn couldn't bring herself to say it for fear of insulting her new husband, a husband who had gone to great lengths to free her. When he kissed her again, she let him, her palms resting tensely against his chest as he trailed the tips of his fingers down her sides. However, she stiffened when he reached beneath the hem of her dress, skin to skin at last, and without thinking, she pushed his hands away roughly.

"I'm sorry," she gasped when he stopped kissing her, his eyebrows furrowed. Sigyn reached for his hands and placed them back on her legs. "I'm sorry."

However, rather than resume his previous actions, Loki set his large hands on her waist, and then slid them around her back. He made a face as his shifted, perhaps uncomfortable with the uneven stone wall against his back, and then licked his lips.

"Are you weary?" The question threw Sigyn for a moment, but she quickly realized he was giving her a way out without directly denying him. So, she nodded, and he mirrored the action. "Another time then…"

"Yes." It came out as a whisper, and she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek. She lingered when he turned and inhaled deeply, because she knew it was all she could give him. When he rearranged himself back against the wall, she slid down to his side again, though this time she brought her head to rest against his stomach. She wrapped both arms around him, holding the prince tightly; her last memory of the night was the rain.

The image of the Trondheim Castle was a welcome sight for Loki, and he urged his horse onward with some urgency.

They had been on the road for nearly two days now, excluding the hours they spent wandering the mountain paths in the fog, and as tired as he might feel, he knew Sigyn was even worse. He barked an order to the two guards who tried to stop him along the castle's gated wall, but once they realized who he was, they raced inward and pried open the gates, welcoming him with deep bows and kind words. He glanced back at Sigyn, who sat hunched on her large horse, eyes heavy with weariness and a grim expression on her features. When she caught him looking, she tried to offer a small smile, but even that fell flat; Loki had seen that smile far too often over the last two days, and he was eager to put an end to her misery.

Trondheim belonged, in essence, to Odin and Asgard. There were many small fiefdoms across the provinces beyond the main city, and Trondheim had been a favourite of his for many years. The main keep rested just beyond the valley at the foot of the mountains, and it was always the first place for travelers to stop after a perilous journey through the hills. All of the palace staff knew Loki; he had helped their master, Iarl Tolvast, when the trolls descended from the mountains and through the valley to attack the residence. Naturally, he kept his appearance hidden at the time, and played both sides of the war to a shaky neutrality. He walked away, however, with allies and made use of lord and troll alike whenever the desire took him.

He had sent a message by bird earlier in the week informing Iarl that he may make an appearance and to ready his bedchamber. If all went according to plan, he would only need to use the older warrior's hospitality for a few weeks at most, and then they could be on their way. Iarl controlled the lands of his realm with a tight grasp; the peasants remained poor, and the sorrows of his countrymen never quite made it to Odin's court. However, his halls were always wonderfully decorated, there was wine pouring from the faucets, and Loki always left in a better state than when he arrived.

Sigyn certainly was not made for life on the road, but he assumed that traveling with proper supplies and warmer clothes might do her some good next time. She followed him dutifully through the valley for two days, clinging to Thor's old horse with fading strength. There was an unease between them; Loki realized that, once they were alone, he wasn't all that sure what to do with her. It ought to be no different than when they had been alone in the past, but now she was his wife, and the title seemed to carry an added weight that he had not prepared for.

Still, he tried to keep her in good spirits, chattering away about nothing whenever the urge struck him. She had been pleasant enough, but the lack of quality food and proper bedding seemed to beat her down quickly, and she hadn't said a word since they awoke that morning. He hadn't tried to bed her since his initial attempt; he would have liked to have had her there in the cave on the night of their wedding, but certainly not if she was unwilling. Instead, he decided to wait until Trondheim charm improved her spirits, which shouldn't take all that long; Iarl's wife was legendary for her hospitality.

His hand tented his eyes as he gazed up at the mighty walls of the Trondheim Castle, and he then urged his horse, which led Sigyn's, inward at the sight of the courtyard filling with pretty serving girls and stable boys. He brought the beast to a halt with a careful hand, and then dismounted, wincing at the stiffness in his legs. There had been times in the past when he had ridden great distances, but that had not been for some time, and his body had grown unused to sitting on a saddle. He was, no doubt, in better condition than his wife, and he attended to her quickly.

"My gracious prince!" Iarl boomed as Loki unhooked one of Sigyn's small feet from the stirrup. He looked back over his shoulder and spotted the master of the house hurrying from the shadowy veranda, clad in a purple robe and a weathered crown. "It is an honour to see your face!"

The man's court followed after him, filing out of the massive entryway to the castle quickly. The building towered over them all, made of what appeared to be mud and sand, and yet not a single piece of it had ever fallen to disarray; surely magic was in the walls.

"Lord Tolvast," Loki greeted with a nod. He heard the gates shut noisily behind him, and already there was a servant tending to his horse. "My wife is weary from the road… Have your woman tend to her immediately."

"Wife?" The man, who had grown considerably around the middle since Loki last saw him, raised his eyebrows as he gazed up at Sigyn, and then snapped loudly for his wife to join him. "Ira, see to her."

"My prince," the older woman greeted, dipping her head and fluffing her skirts – a sign of respect among the country courts. "I have seen to your room, but I was not aware you were bringing your… wife. Please, allow me to remedy it after I see to her care."

Loki gave her another stiff nod; the woman had a penchant for speaking too often about nothing at all. He couldn't imagine how a warrior had ended up with such a frivolous woman, but at least she aged well. He then turned and reached up for Sigyn, who all but collapsed into his awaiting arms. Her little hands clung to his shoulders as he lifted her from the steed, careful not to move her sore body too quickly, but no amount of care could have kept the grimace from her face. Once her feet were on the ground, however, she couldn't seem to hold her weight, and instead grasped at him to steady herself.

"Sigyn," he said, his voice carrying enough so that Iarl and his court could hear her name, "this is Lady Ira Tolvast. She will ensure your comfort."

"My lady," Sigyn croaked in return, her thin fingers dug firmly into the material of his cloak. Loki arched an eyebrow at Iarl's wife, and then gestured down to Sigyn. The woman snapped to attention, crossing the distance between them in a matter of moments.

"Come now, princess," the woman cooed, taking her by the arm and tentatively walking her toward the entrance of the castle. "I'm sure you've had a very tiring journey…" Loki watched her snap at a nearby servant girl, much in the same way her husband had snapped at her initially. "Prepare a bath for our guest."

He kept a steady eye on the cluster of women as they migrated back toward the veranda, and nodded slightly when Sigyn's head swiveled back to find him. Moments later, they were gone, just as his horses were, and he beckoned for Iarl to come to his side.

"I trust you had no troubles on your journey?" the lord inquired. He was half a head shorter than Loki, and once he was close enough, he could see a balding patch amongst the hair beneath the fading crown.

"It was tedious," Loki remarked, "as it always is. I am very hungry."

Iarl snapped at a few loitering servants, and they were off in a flash without a word. The small courtyard appeared much emptier now that the initial arrival had been sorted, and most of the lord's advisors were drifting back to the palace; they would have their chance to speak with Loki over supper.

"Is this pretty wife the reason you find yourself without a home?" Loki's eyebrows shot up at the bold inquiry, and Iarl dipped his head. "My prince."

He offered a fleeting smile, hands clasped behind his back, and then sighed. "She was the catalyst for my freedom, yes."

"She's very lovely."

"She is a welcome companion," he said, a finality to his tone that demanded Iarl drop the subject. "Tell me of your lands… Will they be safe for us to ride through when we have recovered?"

"Oh, most assuredly, my prince," Iarl insisted as they strolled slowly toward the veranda. The sun had grown too bright, and Loki shielded his eyes until they found shade. "You did not say how long you intended to stay." He paused, shooing a curious dog away with a stomp of his foot. "Though you know you have my hospitality for however long you need… Years, should that be the case."

Loki laughed an honest laugh, and then shook his head as he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"Not years, Lord Tolvast," he promised. "By the end of this year, I will be king once more… and then, you may enjoy my hospitality as payment for your good service."

Iarl grinned, and the beckoned him inside where a good meal and a soft bed surely awaited him.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This is a chapter I've been looking forward to writing for a while, as are the next four or five chapters that follow. Pretty excited! I'm also hoping to have another update done sometime this month, so keep an eye out for that!

I know some of you were keen to see their first night as newlyweds, and I hate to disappoint, but it will be happening soon.

Thank you for all the lovely words and support!